


At Least He Knows You Exist

by gitta



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, Character Study, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:33:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3860287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gitta/pseuds/gitta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She knew she was staring at Kale, throughout the train ride. Kale was inside his own head. He didn’t notice her, something that she was pathetically used to. He must have known she existed, though. That was something of a comfort, she supposed. The boy she was in love with knew she existed...because he was going to be forced to kill her."</p><p>Genderbent AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Least He Knows You Exist

**Author's Note:**

> I am madly in love with Genderbent fics. No fandom has enough. Also, this is from Peeta's POV, because Girl!Peeta is absolutely fascinating and I can't write dudes for shit. Also, this is my first posted fic, but I've written a lot. It's also completely unbetaed, and posted late at night.

“Pinta Mellark!” The Escort from the Capitol’s voice rang out through the crowd, and Pinta wanted to run. Instead she started to cry. She tried to stop, but couldn’t, and just ended up blindly walking up the steps. It was shocking she didn’t fall, like Hiddie Abernathy had, moments before.

Nobody had volunteered for her, which wasn’t surprising. There was always a moment of doubt, of the question, just after the name was called out. Did anyone love that person enough, was anyone capable enough? Pinta always wondered at the power of a moment.

Twelve was always silent as they read the names. Pinta knew it was about respect, that they refused to cheer at their deaths. But the glares of a hundred silent people were not comforting when you could see your death on the horizon. Maybe she wanted a few cheers, the idea that maybe she could win.

Pinta had always slightly been able to see her death on the horizon. She knew that one day, one time, her mother’s fists would be too much. She was a strong girl, chubby from birth, but she wasn’t invincible. And her mother had always hit her the hardest. Pinta’s death had always been a wrong move away. So she wasn’t scared then.

“And now, for the boy’s turn.” The Escort was a man, covered in pink, and an elaborate wig. Pinta thought he looked like one of the cakes at her bakery, and was almost comforted. She supposed it wasn’t her bakery anymore, though. Was anything in the world yours, once you were dead?

“Pine Everdeen!” The Escort said it with a flourish of his hand that correlates almost exactly with the swoop in Pinta’s stomach. There was only way for this to get worse, at least for her specifically, and it had happened.

She was still crying, but she could hear just fine, and Kale Everdeen’s voice was already like a pavlovian response to her. When she heard it, she automatically straightened her dress, neck, and spine. And she listened.

It was good he didn’t talk much, or he would have noticed for sure. He was a quiet sort, but everyone in school seemed to agree that it added to his good looks. Delly, who had never been quite as obsessed as Pinta, even agreed. And Delly really liked it when people talked to her, because if they were talking, then it was okay for her to talk.

His voice sounded better when singing, but the simple quality of it transferred over. Pinta knew, suddenly, that she would not have anyone on her side in the capitol. There was one mentor, who was honorbound to train the person with a better shot. Kale had both archery skills, and attractiveness.

Pinta had only ever been called cute. That had been her biggest hurdle, cute. Gayle Hawthorne was striking, and Delly had agreed that if anyone was Pinta’s competition, it was Gayle Hawthorne. Pinta had blushed and said she wasn’t in any competition, and to shut her dumb mouth. Delly had just laughed and laughed.

Pinta would probably never hear Delly laugh again, or her sister’s argue, or Kale Everdeen sing. There wouldn’t be much singing in the arena, that’s for sure. Maybe if she asked him on the train. Though that implied that she would gather the courage to ask him on the train, an unlikely scenario.

The Escort had him say his name, and the customary may the odds be ever in your favor happened. Then something else happened. The crowd put their hands up, in the little three finger salute. And Pinta knew that she had no chance at all, already. But she had at least hoped her district would be cheering for her.

She knew she was staring at Kale, throughout the train ride. Kale was inside his own head. He didn’t notice her, something that she was pathetically used to. He must have known she existed, though. That was something of a comfort, she supposed. The boy she was in love with knew she existed...because he was going to be forced to kill her.

 

 

 

 

 

Hiddie is awful. Worse still, she’s perceptive. The minute Pinta asks to be trained alone, Hiddie just says, “Love has no place in the Games.”

Pinta was going to tell her anyway, at least tell her a version of the truth. She had been telling versions of the truth ever since her mom’s fists flung hard enough to bruise. Then she started to lying to everyone, from her mother, to her school friends. And she’s been participating in a lie with her family since she was little. Pinta knows how to lie, knows what versions of the truth people like to hear.

“I’m not in love with him.” She says, not sure how else to go along. She hadn’t prepared for this, but she could think on her feet. Thinking on her feet had gotten her one and only interaction with Kale after all. It had also fed Kale and his family, which was eternally more important.

“Yes, you are.” Hiddie said. Her breath, from all the way from across the table, smells like alcohol. Or maybe it’s her. She’s been cleaned up for the Capitol, looks almost pretty now. It’s just before the stupid Parade thing. Kale’s stylist is planning everything, talking to him. Pinta knew that she had to act quickly. The Tributes spent less than a week in the Capitol, but some have years of training. She has some artistic talent, and strong arms.

If she continues to deny it, then she’ll look suspicious. Better to go with it; all lies must have a kernel of truth to be convincing. “That’s what I was trying to do. That’s how we’ll survive, get sponsors. I’ve ‘been in love’ with him for years.” Hiddie raises her eyebrows at Pinta’s air quotes, but shrugs.

“You’re already screwed.” She says, “None of you survive. But if that’s what you want.” Pinta nods, and they plan. They don’t get very far before one of the capitol people comes in, and tells Pinta that she needs to report to hair and makeup. Need to make her pretty for the Capitol and all. She’s changed into a pretty dress, one of the Capitol ones. Not one of the fancy ones she’ll be forced into for the parade. But it’ll be that soon enough.

“Thank you.” Pinta says, speaking to Hiddie. She’s already thanked the man who dipped his head in. Manners were useful; people loved manners, especially when they weren’t used to them. Hiddie just scoffs at her. “And don’t tell him. We need his surprise to be real.”

“Really?” Hiddie said, her head tilting. “He could be an excellent actor under all that. You don’t seem like such a good one either, yet here you are.”  
It comes out before she can help it, “He’s too much of himself; you can see it, from his walk, to the way he refuses to look away from the Peacekeepers.” She reveals too much in that sentences, and practically runs out the door.

Just as the door is closing behind her, she hears Hiddie say it, “You’ve had this ‘act’ up for a long time. For longer than you’ve been a tribute.”  
Pinta ignores it, and goes to her stylist. Peter is kind, though more ‘Capitol’ than Kale’s stylist, Cassia. Pinta wonders if Elfie made sure of that; usually girls have girl stylists and boys have boys. Maybe Elfie called ahead, and requested the less obviously ‘Capitol’ stylist be given to the more rebellious tribute.

Pinta doesn’t mind being considered less of a threat. That was how girls won, really. Don’t be a threat, or be a sex goddess. There was a third. Be better at killing than everyone else. But that route wouldn’t be easy for Pinta, obviously. She could at least pretend to be a sex goddess.

“You’ll be on fire.” Cassia explains for what feels like the millionth time. “But it won’t be real fire.” The way she says it makes Pinta feel like an idiot. She wanted to  
know how they were making the fake fire seem like real fire. It was light, right, and everyone knows light always has heat. Anyone who’d ever had a lantern at least. 

Kale isn’t questioning it, which confuses Pinta. He seems the type to be distrustful of this stupid place, more than her. But he seems to trust his stylist. She didn’t mind them, but she didn’t trust them. She didn’t trust people whose job it was to make them into something else. They were trying to change her.

“Are you ready?” Cassia says to Kale. Pinta is having her make up touched up, or fixed or something. She wasn't listening to Peter’s explanation, not when Kale was so close to her. A few feet, not even the closest they had been since the reaping. But closer than they had been before that.

She can remember what his hand felt like in hers, but she knew she couldn’t focus on it. She was always good at compartmentalizing. The girl whose mother hit her was different from the girl who hung around at the slag heap waiting for someone who was never there, who was different from the girl who giggled to her friends about boys, who was different from the smiling girl managing the register at her father’s bakery. She needed a new girl, she realized. A girl who was a tribute in the Hunger Games, and was going to save the boy she loved.

“Maybe.” Kale said. His voice wasn’t musical, but Pinta knew he was. She knew more about him then she did about the Founding of Panem. But maybe that was because he was in her history class, and history wasn't as interesting as he was. “Maybe I don’t want to be covered in fire.”

“Don’t worry.” Cassia said, “They’re an illusion.” It’s less condescending then it was towards Pinta, but she isn’t surprised. Kale is more likely to win. And Cassia didn’t seem like she would like charming types. And Pinta may be pathetic, silly, and not all that pretty. But she was charming. “Hold hangs. The people will love it.”

She grabs his hand halfway through the Parade. He looks at her like she’s a crazy person, but he keeps hold of her hand. He trusts Cassia enough, or so it seems. It sends a shock through her, his hand in hers. A flower hits her in the face more than once. But all she could think about what his hand in hers.

 

 

 

She goes up to the roof. She doesn’t know he will be there, or so Pinta tells herself. She would never go up just to talk to him. She wants to see the city. She’ll die before she sees home again, after all.

“What are you doing up here?” He asks, quickly and sharply. He had defended her earlier, at dinner, saying she was strong. Not the best thing to be called by a boy  
you liked, but then again, a good thing to say about a tribute.

“I wanted to see the city.” Selective truth is a powerful thing, but sometimes you can tell the whole truth. Pinta wanted to tell him the truth. She’d wanted to talk to him since she was little.

“Me too.” Kale said. He’s got a look on his face that Pinta’s never seen. He looks...not vulnerable, but definitely emotional. Pinta’s never really seen him furious. He’s been annoyed, sure. But he usually just has a blank look on his face. Now, he has emotions. Pinta likes it, even if it’s anger.

“You ready for training?” She asks. It’s silly, but she wants to talk to him. Sitting beside him in silence is basically everything she’s been doing for the past day and a half.

“Maybe.” Kale says. He’s giving away less than nothing, and Pinta prides herself on actually being able to read other people. “I don’t think I’m ready for any of this.”

“Well, that’s just a given I think.” Pinta says, without thinking. “I don’t think that anyone is really ready for this. Except maybe the careers."

"Can anyone really be ready for this?" Kale looked away from her and back onto the Capitol sideline.

They stayed like that until Kale left, and then Pinta was alone. She watched alone, just to convince herself that she hadn't gone up looking for him. She wasn't looking for anyone. She was doing things because she wanted them, not because of a crush that had persistently not gone away.

She had tried so many ways. She had kissed other boys, dated other boys. She had tried really really hard to forget about him. She couldn't get him out of her mind. It made her crazy for years. Until she finally just gave up. And decided that watching him was easier.

 

 

 

 

Training is easy. Mostly because she doesn't do much. It's a "tactic". One Hiddie has recommended. In their one on one training sessions. She doesn't know what Hiddie tells Kale. He glared at her, angry at her...betrayal. Apparently, he now thinks she is going to try to kill him.

Interviews loom. They loom like nothing else has ever loomed, not even Kale. And he's a loomer, through and through. He's doing great in the training. So great that he gets a twelve.

It’s a threat, an implicit one. Get your act together and start toeing the line. It’s her job to fix it, during the interviews. She’s tries, looks cute and a little scared. She wants to look like she needs rescuing. Some girl from One’s got sexy locked down, or Pinta would be doing that too.

She learned sexy from her sister’s magazines beneath the stairs and late night Capitol TV. When the only boy in the world doesn’t notice you being all cute and adorable, you try sexy. When he doesn’t know that, you go back to being covered in flour and frosting, because what’s the point? But Pinta knows how to be sexy, and she would use it now if she thought it would do any good.

Hiddie and her have a plan, you see. A good plan, at least to some. It’s not a perfect plan, but nothing is. It’s a plan to make sure he survives, because that’s what love is supposed to be.

She isn’t entirely sure when she decided to die for him. It was after they got on the train, before they got to the Capitol. She had realized with a sinking feeling that she wasn’t going to live, and that her mother was right. That they could have a victor this year.

Delly and Pinta read Romeo and Juliet once. It felt like it must have been years and years ago, but it was probably less than one. Pinta had thought it was romantic how ready to die for each other they were, but didn’t think she could do it. She would never want Kale dead.

There’s also a more pressing, more practical reason for him to live. His mother and brother need him far more than hers do. Her mother definitely doesn’t need her, and would probably end up hurting her worse than before. Then again, she would be a Victor if she lived. Her mother couldn’t hurt a Victor. But she wouldn’t live, and Kale would die.

It was far too easy of a decision, whenever she made. She made it quickly, and felt far too sure in it. She was ready to die too quickly. People were supposed to be reluctant to die, but she wasn’t. She was ready. Ready to go down swinging, and protecting. She didn’t want to die, but she wasn’t fighting her destiny.

She smiles sweetly on during the interview and says, “Well, I don’t know. Maybe boys have noticed me, but I’ve...well I’ve only have eyes for one.”

Caesar picks at it, like Pinta knows he would. Hiddie had told her, but she would have guessed anyway. People have been picking at her crush all the way until she learned how to hide it. She’s not used to actually talking about it. But she does.

Caesar says something silly about going back, and him being completely unable to resist her, and she has an opening, “Well, I don’t think that’s going to work.”

“Why not? A big strong Victor who charmed the Capitol? Who could resist that?”

“I don’t know if he could.” She says carefully and shyly, “But it won’t matter. Because...if I go home...he won’t.” There’s a gasp, carefully calculated and then she’s off of the platform. Then it’s Kale’s turn.

He doesn’t do terrible, and Caesar is smart enough to steer him towards his brother as opposed to her. She still wishes she could get his opinion on it all, though. Pinta likes hearing about his brother though. Then he turns and burns, and her breath rushes right out of her.

Then, it feels like seconds later, he’s got her up against the wall, and her breath is right out of her alright. Hiddie gets him off of her almost immediately. Pinta almost wishes she hadn’t. It’s one of her more recurring fantasy, and he was so close. In her fantasy, it’s never him arm cutting off her breath, though. Still, it feeds the fuel, and she wishes it could last longer. It was painful though, sadly.

He’s angry with her, which she wasn’t expecting. Which was probably an oversight on her part, but a good one. Would she really ever be alright with upsetting him? Probably not, not overtly.

His fist is close to her face, but Cassia calms him. She can’t he; but look at him, his anger. He understands eventually. The idea was to humanize him, make him more desirable to all the Capitol ladies. To make him less threatening, that a little sweet girl sees something in him. He can’t just win on scary, he doesn’t have enough. Plus, all that scary is bad. Makes him look like a revolutionary.

She’s breathing heavy once he leaves. She almost wants to cry, because it feels so much like a rejection. It certainly makes it clear that her true feelings shouldn’t ever be revealed. He didn’t want them.

 

 

 

Perhaps he thrives on making her confused. Because later that night, the night before they will probably die, they find each other. And he listens to her, listens to her talk about her silly ideas about owning herself.

“I just want to die as me.” She says, and he shakes his head a little. They feel like equals, in that moment.

“I don’t really have that option.” He says in response to her, and she knows she will never truly understand him. But she wants to so badly, and it upsets her so much that she will never get the chance. She might have gotten the chance, might have been able to work up the courage to speak to him, to charm in some way. But now she never will.

She tells him about what her mother said to her, that he was the hope of District 12. He looks uncomfortable at that, and Pinta maybe hopes it’s some sort of sympathy towards her, with a mother like that. She wants his emotions to be as focused on her, as hers on on him. But she doubts it. More likely, he is worried about the burden of 12 on his back.

“I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.” She says, as he gets up to leave. It’s half a joke, and said with a bitter laugh. She does hope so, though.

 

 

 

She watches him, of course she does. She watches him for fifty seconds, right up until she thinks that watching the cornucopia would be smart, at least for the last ten seconds. They aren’t supposed to go for the Cornucopia, Hiddie told them a million times that it was a bloodbath, and they’re at enough of a disadvantage already. But he does.

So she stays, right on the edges of the fight, and watches to make sure he gets away. She isn’t entirely sure what she’ll do if she dies, but she knows it’ll be a good show. She doesn’t want them to see it.

They find her, the little quadrant of careers, they find her almost right after he’s gone. And she joins them, as soon as she can. She doesn’t like the looks they give her, the boys or the girls. But they need her. They need her recognizable face, and the idea that she can draw Kale out, even if it’s not true. They’d have a better chance if they got the little boy, the one who’s the same age as his brother.

She hates the Careers. She hates Wonder, who simpers at any camera she finds and Ganymede, who smirks and flirts. But they’re harmless, or at the very least, not intentionally cruel. They’re selfish, and they don’t care about others. But they aren’t sadists, like Cecilia and Clive. Pinta doesn’t hate her with the same anger as she does those from Two. The others aren’t even worth thinking about, they’re so inconsequential.

They find him right away. And none of them can climb a tree. Or shoot an arrow. Apparently, that wasn’t the kind of thing they taught in their fancy career schools. What did they teach then? It was funny at first, but eventually Pinta just hates it. So she makes the obvious suggestion. Wait it out. Wait him out.

It backfires wonderfully, as he drops a tracker jacker nest on them. Pinta is barely stung, but Ganymede and another boy dies. They die, right in front of her. And she lets Kale get away, obviously. Celicia really doesn’t like that. And Pinta pays the price. But she was planning on that, anyway. She was hoping for a quicker death than bleeding out from a leg wound, but she’d helped him. She’d saved him, though he didn’t really need it. But she was going to die, and she would damn well think whatever she wanted about him.

She’s figured out a way to camouflage herself by the time the rules are changed. Which was maybe stupid then, because now she was hard to find, and dying. But she doubts Kale cares about her enough for that. But he surprises her. She’s dying, but he’s taking care of her, and that is almost enough.

Honestly, she would rather be alive, and have him taking care of her, but she’ll take what she can get. Plus, this has the added benefit of snuggles that feel real, and kisses that definitely aren’t. He’s a terrible kisser, though. It makes her happy; he clearly hasn’t kissed many people. The many many many thoughts she’s had about him and Gayle sneaking off to the woods are wrong.

Her leg is getting worse, and Kale is getting more worried. He acts like he isn’t, and distracts her by kissing her. It’s a kindness, though a condescending one. But she knows she’s dying, so she’s okay with the kisses. Almost feels guilty for them, as they are received under false pretenses.

The days seem to bleed together, and she’s almost always delirious with pain, but she is conscious enough to understand the Feast. Whoever decided to simply make up rules this round is starting to get on her nerves. It’s a carrot, dangled in front of her. There’s no way they can go.

“If I go alone.” Kale argues, “I can run in and out, no problem.” Pinta wants to roll her eyes at that, at his stubbornness and his certainty. But he wants to save her, so she can’t. But the impulse is there.

She’d watched him do a thousand, ridiculous, stubborn things over the years, and she’s always thought him terrible sweet or romantic or whatever the situation called for. Dying has brought out a spine in her, and a sarcastic streak. Still, she loves him. She can see the love he bore for the boy, the one who reminded him of his brother, she can see that he doesn’t even really like her but that he still wants to save her, she can see that he doesn’t the lie of kissing her. He’s loyal, and kind, and honest, still. He’s everything she wishes and tries to be, but cannot.

He drugs her, and she has terrible dreams. They’re of her mother, and her fists, and her father and his sad looks. She loves her father, she does. He taught her how to bake, how to frost, encouraged her to turn that into drawing and painting. Something that had saved her life, after all. But she cannot forgive him for simply looking sadly on, as she puts ice on her eye or her arm.

When she wakes up, she feels alive again, and Kale looks close to death. She gets to return the favor of nursing him back to health. Apparently, Clive is dead. Wonder died earlier. The only ones left are the two of them, the girl from 11, and the boy from 6. And Celicia, of course. They have a chance of surviving, almost. They just have to figure out a way to, you know, actually stay alive.

The girl from 11, Sow, dies a few days later. She’s the one who killed Clive, according to Kale. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but Pinta gets the impression Clive had been talking about the boy from 11, Thorn. The one Kale had been aligned with. And then the girl had destroyed him, and allowed Kale to run.

They find the body of the other boy. He ate some berries, berries that Kale had just told Pinta not to eat. It makes Pinta cry, how close to death she had been. Kale puts his arm around her, and they get another little parachute, full of bread and stew. Apparently, all the kissing had nothing on him comforting her. It made Pinta wonder about the worth of their entire relationship. If he said he loved her, would they get a weapon? If they had sex, would they be let right out of the Arena?

They’re forced out of their hiding place, and Cecilia takes her prisoner, and there’s rain, and mutts, and Pinta thinks she’s going to die. But she’s thought she was going to die the whole time, and there isn’t much difference. It’s when Cecilia dies that she really feels something new. It’s relief, an amazing release in her heart and her head. The light is flooding into the Arena, and they’ve survived. She kisses him, full on the lips, arms around the neck.

But then, it’s torn away. The rules change again. Honestly, she isn’t surprised, because the Capitol doesn’t work fairly, and she was always going to die in this stupid Arena, in these stupid games. Kale has always been more stubborn than her, and comes up with a plan. It’s a good plan, a dangerous plan, and it works. They survive.

Hiddie must talk to him about something, must threaten him or convince him or something, because suddenly he’s all over her. He treats her like he loves her, but he doesn’t, and she knows he doesn’t, and she officially hates it. Because, in some instances, when the lighting is right, or his face is at the right angle, he looks at her like she’s something special. It’s absolutely fake, and absolutely for the cameras, but it never seems to last long enough to be for the cameras, or the cameras aren’t on.

He finally tells her why he did it. That it was for the sponsorships and to survive. She knew it from the very beginning, but she hates it. She feels like she falls apart in that moment, because she wasn’t fooling herself, she was well aware of what was going on, but she falls apart when he says that. It’s absolutely awful, and shallow, because her dreams are filled with images of Ganymede’s dead body, covered in hives. But she cries because he doesn’t love her.

They’re on the train, and she can hear the cheers. She’s gotten her cheers, from the beginning. District Twelve may not cheer at the reapings and they may not celebrate their children dying, but they celebrate when they return home. But it’s not enough to simply smile. Pinta isn’t dumb, she knows that everyone thinks Kale’s started a revolution. She knows that Kale is a threat, and that her job is make him seem tame. An impossible job, but she’s never known any other kind.

“One more time? For the audience.” She hopes her bitterness shows through, because she’s almost died, and she’s never going to be free again. But at least the boy she loves knows she exists.

**Author's Note:**

> There it is! Now, if you have any questions about which characters are who, or whatever, don't be afraid to ask. I have so many opinions on this matter. I might eventually write a third or fourth part, if I really really like this.


End file.
